


Trust You

by astranauta



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4754990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astranauta/pseuds/astranauta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to Meseeks and Destroy. When Morty locks himself in his room, Rick feels his pain and tries to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust You

It wasn’t like Morty to disappear right after an adventure. He’d typically linger for a while in Rick’s garage, watching him tinker with whatever it was they went to retrieve, jabbering on excitedly as if Rick hadn’t been there with him the entire time, or just generally hanging over his shoulder and getting on Rick’s nerves. If he was good and pissed off by the end of it, he’d go storming off in a hurry, but Rick could usually tell it was coming and, in most cases, wanted to be left the fuck alone anyway. But Morty hadn’t been angry and, all things considered, their very first Morty-led adventure had gone pretty well. Rick would never in his life admit it to the kid, but it had actually gone a lot less disastrously than a lot of the adventures Rick had dragged Morty on. Still, the little brunette had seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as they stepped through the portal and, though he really wished he didn’t, Rick was pretty certain he knew why.

The door to Morty’s room was locked up tight. For Morty, this was unusual. Even when he masturbated, the kid was always leaving a door unlocked and, if someone in the house let out a scream, it was either a response to walking in on Morty jacking off or finding some grotesque alien Rick was harbouring under the garage. Rick’s knuckles rapped at the door. No answer. He leaned against it, ear pressed hard to the wood.

“Morty,” He called out, loud enough that he was sure his grandson would hear. Inside, he could hear shuffling, and waited with anticipation for Morty to open the door up, even just a crack. More silence. Rick sighed, knocking a few more times and calling out again. “C-Come on, Morty. Open up the door, I don’t have all day.” Part of him regretted taking on such a harsh tone. Just as he was making a mental note, to make an effort to be gentle, Morty swung the door hard open. He stood in front of Rick, eyes red and puffy. Rick would’ve assumed that he’d been crying, but he sort of still _was_ crying. Though he wasn’t babbling and hiccupping, tears rolled down his stinging cheeks. He looked up accusingly at his grandfather, who stared back down with a pained expression. Morty had changed, into a pair of yellow pajamas, and Rick could see his discarded clothes stuffed in the trash can beside Morty’s desk.

“Wh-What do you want, Rick?” Unused to such aggression coming from his little sidekick, Rick was taken aback. As soon as he opened his mouth to lay into him about being such a disrespectful little shit, he saw Morty’s arms wrap around his skinny body, holding his stomach. Rick’s expression softened and he leaned against the door frame.

“Look, Morty. I didn’t mean to- I’m not up here to make you upset,” He was never the best at being tender. For a moment, he stood in awkward silence, making eye contact with a still hostile-looking Morty. Reaching up to scratch the back of his neck and attempting to casually avert his eyes, Rick cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.” Morty’s expression changed, from angry to alarmed.

“I-I-I’m fine!” He stammered out, face flushing a different kind of red. Rick felt a tinge of guilt for even making Morty go through the humiliation of finding out he knew what happened, but he also couldn’t stand to think about Morty crying in isolation. Rick followed as Morty backed into his room, sliding the door shut behind him.

“I know you’re not. I saw the- That look on your face, Morty,”” Rick responded gruffly. Morty’s lip trembled as he looked away, anywhere but up at Rick, his small hands toying nervously with the fleecy fabric of his pj’s. Rick muttered an apology, wanting to reach out and take the kid into his arms. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for Rick, but one he’d never actually act upon. In this once instance, though, he was convinced he would’ve, but knew that spontaneous grabbing was the last thing Morty needed. Rick was silent for a few more moments, taking a seat on Morty’s desk and fishing his flask out of his coat pocket. “You might think that your- Your ol’ grandpa Rick’s pretty tough, Morty, but I wasn’t always- I didn’t always know how to take care of myself so good.” When Morty finally looked back up at Rick, his eyes were no longer studying him with a mixture of emotions Morty could only read as pity. Instead they were glazed over, as if deep in thought, and though the corners of Rick’s mouth were upturned ever so slightly in an effort to cheer Morty up, his eyes were far from smiling.

“Rick…” Morty’s voice was soft and suddenly muffled as Rick felt two slender arms sliding around him. Morty’s face was buried in Rick’s chest and Rick, letting out a quiet sigh, held him tight in his arms. They held each other like this for a long while, Rick rubbing his hand up and down Morty’s back slowly. When Morty finally looked back up, his face was stained with fresh snot and tears, leaving a big wet spot on Rick’s sweater. Though his face was soaked, Morty’s mouth was dry and pasty, evident when he spoke softly and shakily. “I-I don’t- I feel _dirty_.” The last word escaped his mouth barely more than a whisper. Rick, whose stomach had been twisting since the Thirsty Step when he’d realized why Morty was so desperate to leave, winced as he heard this.

“C-Come here, Morty,” He bent his knees, placing a hand on Morty’s leg so he could lift him up. The boy was so light, so fragile. “Let’s go g- W-We’ll go get cleaned up. Would you like that?” Morty, who had rested his head on Rick’s shoulder and his arms around Rick’s neck, nodded tearfully, and allowed Rick to carry him down the hallway and into the bathroom.

-

“There you go, Morty. Y-You should be all set there, with everything.” Rick, who had been sitting on the edge of the bathtub waiting as the water ran, stood to leave his grandson to bathe in peace. The tub was full of hot, steamy water and plenty of bubbles. He’d even laid out a big, fluffy towel and a nice soft washcloth for Morty to use. Still, Rick could tell by the look on Morty’s face that something was missing. “What? What is it?” Morty stared down at his feet, tracing the cracks between the tiles with his big toe.

“Don’t leave,” Morty looked up sheepishly. Looking down at his grandson, Rick felt unable to refuse. The kid was pitiful, yellow pajamas floating on his tiny frame. The stress of feeling so much empathy for Morty was beginning to overwhelm him and Rick briefly wished that, instead of having very, _very_ little empathy, he had none at all. Morty, whose eyes had again begun welling with tears, chewed on his bottom lip. “ _Please,_ Rick.”

How could he say no? Nodding, Rick sat back down on the floor beside the bathtub. He stared straight ahead at the sink as Morty undressed, though he could see the yellow bottoms slip to the floor in his peripheral vision. As he stepped in the water, Morty let out a hard breath of air. The water was steaming and, as Morty sat down into it, it enveloped him with a burning sensation, so hot it almost felt cold. Rick watched as Morty let himself get used to the water, slipping gradually down into it with his eyes shut tight. It was only when Morty was totally submerged in water and bubbles save for his head and his knee that he opened his eyes and lay still, waiting for even a hint of relaxation to find him. Rick recognized this but didn’t have the heart to tell him it was likely not coming.

“Y’know,” Morty blurted out, sounding a bit more confident despite his quivering bottom lip. He even let out a desperate laugh. “I-I used to think I w-wanted to have sex. I-I-I don’t know why I- I don’t know what I was thinking.” To Morty, it may have been ironic, morbidly laughable: The perpetually horny chronic masturbator who constantly fantasized about getting laid didn’t know what he was getting himself into. To Rick, it was infuriating.

“That isn’t sex, Morty!” He snapped at his grandson, voice harsher than it had been all day. He felt guilty for growling at him almost instantly, especially after seeing Morty’s face fall the way it did. He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “That isn’t sex. You gotta- You bothgotta _want_ to do it. If someone’s grabbin’ you a-and you don’t want ‘em to…” Rick trailed off and for a moment, Morty could swear he could see Rick’s own pain in his eyes rather than just the pity he felt for Morty. “Sex isn’t like that. Sex is great, Morty. I-It’s supposed to feel good, not- You do it with someone you trust, alright? Someone who makes you feel good. Don’t worry. You’ll like it.” Rick forced a grin, flicking some suds at Morty who had allowed a small smile to invade his weary face. Rick reached out, ruffling his grandson’s soft brown hair. Morty was silent for a while, sitting up a little to bring his knees closer to his body, hugging them to his chest.

“Geez,” His voice was soft but genuine. “Thanks, Rick.” Since a large portion of Morty’s daily thoughts revolved around sex, he did feel a certain sense of relief to hear what his grandpa had to say. But even that couldn’t take away the scared, sad, sick feeling he felt inside. Rick nodded, feeling a sense of guilt for telling him everything was going to be okay when he could never know for sure. If Rick’s own experience had been anything to go by, Morty could have a warped understanding of sex and pleasure for the rest of his life.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Rick grabbed the washcloth he’d laid out for Morty and dipped it into the water. He opened the bottle of body wash sitting on the edge of the tub with a _pop,_ squeezing it out onto the cloth and holding it out to Morty. When the kid, who had rested his chin on his knees and took to staring off into space, made no moves to take it, Rick pressed the warm cloth to Morty’s shoulder and rubbed it in small circles across the width of his back. Careful to watch Morty for any signs of discomfort, Rick realized the action partly reminded him of bathing his child and party of bathing a lover. Immediately, he retracted his hand. It was, in the back of his mind, a thought Rick had often and it made him feel gross. Yet as soon as he stopped, Morty let out a gentle whine.

“C-Can you keep doing that, Rick? I-I-It feels nice.” He’d shut his eyes, enjoying the calming feeling, but they were back open now and blinking at Rick in a way that he couldn’t say no to. So he resumed, washing carefully and slowly all down Morty’s back and shoulders as Morty sat in the water, eyes closed and letting out gentle hums of approval every now and then. When he’d washed all of him that he could reach, Rick sat the cloth on the edge of the tub. Morty’s eyes shot open.

“I can’t reach you, Morty,” Rick answered before his grandson even had a chance to ask the question. Morty looked away from Rick as he replied.

“You could… I-If you get in here with me.” Rick shook his head, incredulous but also panicked that he’d been thinking aloud, but Morty was already looking back at him with those damn eyes. “I can’t- I-I don’t want to be alone, Rick. _Please_.” Part of Rick felt annoyed with himself for being so willing to give in to every request that Morty had. The other part just wanted to help the kid in any way he could. Rick stood up as Morty moved forward in the tub to give him room to sit. Slipping out of his layers, Rick obliged Morty’s wishes and sunk down into the scalding water, muttering obscenities as he went. It was a little too cramped, and Rick’s long legs stuck out of the water comically far compared to Morty’s little ones. Nevertheless, Morty settled back in, resting back against his grandpa as Rick picked up the washcloth and resumed his task, rubbing circles over Morty’s neck, chest, and tummy.

_Look at you,_ Rick couldn’t help but think to himself, _Taking advantage of your grandson! He just went through a traumatic ordeal and you’re soaping him up? What the fuck kind of sick fucking monster are-_

“H-Hey, Rick,” Morty’s soft voice broke his inner monologue. Rick could see his grandson’s hands fidgeting nervously. For a moment, he wondered if he was making the kid uncomfortable. Sure, he’d asked him to get in and all but he’d been traumatized and probably didn’t know what the hell he needed. “You’re… You do it with someone you trust, w-who makes you feel nice… Like, with someone you love, right?” Rick couldn’t help but roll his eyes, exasperated with the question. Morty was young and naive but he wasn’t an infant. He was borderline addicted to internet porn, for God’s sake! Did he really believe those people were in love? Still, he humored him, doing his best to keep the contempt out of his voice.

“Yeah, Morty. Sure,” Rick left out the snarky _whatever_ that was just dying to get out of his mouth. Morty fell quiet, for a few minutes, before he spoke again, his voice so soft Rick could hardly believe he’d heard what he’d heard.

“S-So then… I should- I should do it with you,” The silence that filled the air was deafening and Rick stopped pressing circles into Morty’s skin.

Rick felt his heart thumping hard in his chest and his stomach churning, two very conflicting manifestations of two very conflicting emotions. On the one hand, Rick was disgusted with himself, not because of the taboo but because Morty was a dumb fucking kid who didn’t know how to take care of himself at all and Rick might have been a lot of nasty things but one thing that he _wasn’t_ was someone who’d take advantage of a vulnerable, stupid kid like that. On the other hand, he’d been attracted to the doe-eyed little thing since the showering incident inside the simulator and he knew he’d take care of Morty like no one else would, be gentle with him, understand what he was going through.

“I-I-It’s just that,” Morty turned his body, making a slipping noise against the slick surface of the tub and  looking Rick bravely in the face though his own was a deep shade of red, still swollen and itchy from crying. “I trust you, Rick, a-a-and you make me feel good.” Chewing on his bottom lip, Morty added a soft “Well, not all the time,” to the end of his sentence.

“L-Look, Morty-“ Rick didn’t get a chance to finish as Morty drew in a breath- Rick thought it’d be another pitiful _‘please’_ , but it had evidently been a breath for courage- and moved forward, pressing his lips hard against Rick’s. Rick inhaled deeply, pushing Morty away but not before savoring the taste of his grandson’s sweet lips. The look on Morty’s face was a predictable mix of mortification and sadness, like a kicked puppy.

“Y-You don’t..“ The boy’s breath hitched as he spoke, eyes welling up with fresh tears. “I just- I thought that…”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Rick’s voice was gentle and he wore the guilt on his face. He shook his head, sadly, slowly. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Morty. Y-You don’t know what you want.”

“Yes I do!” Morty’s voice was louder now, his brows furrowed together. “I-I-I’m not just some- Just some dumb kid, Rick! Do you think I’m always hanging out with you because you’re fun to be around?” At this, Rick couldn’t help but laugh. The kid had a point. Once the momentary confidence was gone, Morty appeared deflated, staring down at the thick layer of bubbles on top of the water. “I want you to make me feel good, Rick. A-And I wanna make you feel good, too. That’s all.”

Rick was torn. Morty was either hurting and using anything he could think of to make it stop, or genuinely wanted this kind of relationship with his grandfather and, after what had happened at the Thirsty Step, needed Rick’s reassurance and love. In his hands, Rick held the ability to either fuck his grandson up for life or show him what a loving, passionate sexual relationship was like. He thought about his own experiences, his own needs when he was standing where Morty stood now. Though the old man had held machinery that had the ability to destroy people, things, entire _worlds,_ nothing else could have ever weighed so heavy.

“Y-You don’t want me,” Morty concluded, breaking Rick’s train of thought once more. Tears had gone rolling down the kid’s face, leaving salty trails down his cheeks and throat. “B-B-Because I’m d-dirty now.” Without warning, Rick reached out for Morty, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him back in, closer to his own body.

“No!” His voice was gruff, his eyes piercing Morty’s, so intense the brunette wanted to look away. “Don’t you ever- I don’t want to hear you say that again, Morty. Do you hear me?” After Morty nodded, Rick’s expression softened a bit. He stared at the boy for a long while before speaking again. “I need to know how sure you are, M-Morty. I can’t fix- I can’t make it all go away for you.” Morty nodded, staring wide-eyed back at his grandpa. Slowly, he moved forward onto Rick’s lap. Rick sighed, running his fingers though the back of the kid’s hair. “I wish I could.”

“I’m sure, Rick,” Morty breathed, leaning in once again to kiss Rick. It was gentler this time, sweeter, and a lot longer. It was Morty this time who finally pulled away, licking at his lips. Rick watched his face, looking for any signs of regret, discomfort, _disgust_ , but found none that he could discern. “I’m _positive._ I-It’s not just b-because of… Th-this whole thing, you know.” Morty looked as though he was searching for the words to convey what he meant, but Rick was pretty sure he got the gist. Just like washing him in the tub wasn’t the first time that Rick had had these thoughts about Morty, Morty wanted him to know that he’d wanted it, that he wasn’t just using him as a tool to fill the hole that had opened up when King Jellybean had his hands all over Morty’s body.

So Rick pulled him closer, kissing him with the built-up fervor that had come from wanting to have him but not wanting to take advantage of him. And Morty kissed him back, his slender arms wrapping around Rick’s neck as he pushed his body in closer. Now that Rick could feel him, he could tell that Morty was already hard beneath all the bubbles.

“Shit,” Rick muttered between kisses. When a puzzled Morty broke away to ask him what was wrong, Rick moved his lips to Morty’s neck, kissing up and down the tender flesh. The action was met with a gasp and a shiver, and then with soft sighs of enjoyment. “You’re hard already.” Morty nodded, cheeks flushed with colour. Rick was only half-hard, but Morty was a virgin and easily-excitable in general. Plus, having Morty pressed hard against him, sighing in his ear, was really getting him there. Rick planted kisses all along Morty’s shoulders, chest, and Morty slipped his hand down into the water, wrapping it around Rick’s cock to show his appreciation. The sensation of the small, stroking hand and the knowledge of to whom the hand belonged made Rick let out a low moan, tipping his head back a little. He’d expected a little cuddling and kissing and a lot of building up, but it was clear that Morty had other ideas. Rick wrapped his arm even tighter around Morty’s body, using his free hand to hook it under his thigh, and stood up, still holding Morty up at waist level. He staggered a bit, the weight of his grandson and the water pulling down on him. Clearly, the kid was confused, but didn’t need to ask what Rick was doing as he carried him, still soaking wet and dripping with suds, out of the bathroom and down the hall toward Rick’s room.

The air felt cool against bare skin, a nice contrast to the steaming hot bathtub. Rick had laid Morty gently on his bed and wandered over to his dresser drawer to fish something out. When he returned, laying down beside his grandson, he held a bottle of unmarked fluid that Morty sincerely hoped was human lube but in all likelihood was some kind of slippery alien substance that Morty wouldn’t want to know the origin of. As soon as he lay down, Morty had latched himself back onto Rick, kissing him and pressing his wet body against him, hands slowly stroking his dick. Rick returned the favour, using one hand to skillfully work his grandson’s cock, rotating his wrist as he went, and the other to trace small circles into Morty’s lower back. Though being gentle was not a defining characteristic for Rick, he was pretty sure he’d proven it was, at least, a possibility. Morty’s response to this was incredible.

“Aaaaaaaaah, Rick,” He breathed, rapidly melting into a puddle of soft moans and whines. With his eyes screwed shut and mouth agape ever so slightly, Morty attempted to mimic Rick’s movements with his own hands. “J-Jesus…”

“Do you like it?” Rick asked, mouth pressed against the sweet spot he’d found on Mort’s neck. Morty nodded rapidly, panting out his reply.

“Ohhhh, yes,” The boy had taken to swiveling his hips into Rick’s hand. “Y-You- You don’t know h-how bad- _Ahh._ H-how bad I’ve wanted this.” Rick had moved his other hand to Morty’s ass, playing with it and squeezing it gently. He laughed airily, knowing that he probably knew exactly how bad. Morty moved to press a kiss just below Rick’s ear and to whisper in it.

“I want you to- to be inside me, Rick.” Rick shivered at the feeling of Morty’s soft breath, the sound of his voice, and felt his cock twitch hard in Morty’s hands. When Rick nodded and let go of him, Morty began to move onto his hands and knees, a position he’d no doubt seen in the porn he was always watching. But Rick shook his head, grabbing Morty’s hand.

“Not like that,” He said, pressing on the boy’s shoulder until he was lying flat on his back again. Instead, Rick moved so that he was between Morty’s legs, leaning over top of him, pressing kisses to his soft belly. “I want to see your face.” It sounded romantic, and it some ways it was, but Rick was mostly terrified of hurting him, of forcing himself on Morty when Morty had changed his mind but was too scared or shocked or stupid to say anything. If he was facing him, at least that way he could read his facial expressions.

Once again, Rick reached over for the generic-looking bottle. From out of it came a clear, slick substance that Rick used to coat his fingers. He spread Morty’s legs, pushing them back against his chest to better access Morty’s entrance. As he traced his slippery fingers against it, Morty gasped and writhed beneath his touch. With just his index finger, Rick slowly pressed against his grandson’s hole, watching his face closely. Even as he slipped it inside, the expression on Morty’s face didn’t change, still conveying the utmost pleasure. Morty whined as Rick finger fucked him, slipping another in only when he was sure Morty could handle it. Even when he’d built up to three fingers slowly sliding in and out, Morty was grinding his ass against them, showing no signs of wanting to stop.

“Oh God, p-please, Rick,” Morty breathed out a desperate plea. Rick was moving so slowly, pushing his fingers so deep, allowing for only a teasing taste of what being fucked would really feel like. “Please, _m-more._ ” God, the kid was so hot, and watching him arch his back and draw in shaky breaths was getting to be too much for Rick to handle. Slowly, he slipped his fingers out of Morty’s ass and squeezed out more of the slippery substance.

“Are you sure?” It was a question Morty need not answer with words as he gripped the backs of his knees, giving Rick better access to his hole. Taking a deep breath, Rick pressed his cock up against Morty’s entrance, staring down at Morty who gazed up at him with a mixture of hunger and love in his eyes. Rick leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Morty’s forehead before slowly pushing the head of his cock inside. Morty let out a loud whine, mouth hanging open, eyes screwed shut. Rick stopped, leaving his cock halfway buried inside Morty’s asshole and going no further for fear of hurting him. Well, he _knew_ it was hurting him, but he didn’t want to make it any worse, especially if he changed his mind.

“ _More_ ,” Morty panted, evidently unsatisfied with his grandpa’s pause. Rick obliged and pushed into Morty’s ass until his hips were resting against it. He kept this up at an agonizing pace, Morty letting out a moan every time Rick’s cock went in deep. As he worked, he leaned down to kiss his grandson’s sweet lips. “H-H- _Hnnnnnnn_ , Rick. More, please. H-harder.”

“ _Jesus,_ ” The kid was so fucking hot he could hardly stand it. Rick never in his life imagined he’d be taking orders from a Morty, but he picked up his pace, thrusting a bit faster and a bit harder, trying to find a good mix between teasing his prostate and absolutely wrecking him. Rick sunk his cock in deep to hear the moans and gasps that flowed from Morty’s lips. The slender brunette snaked his arms up and around Rick’s neck, his mouth hungrily searching for a surface to kiss. Their lips collided, tongues sliding over one another with Morty moaning into Rick’s mouth as he pumped in and out of his grandson’s tight hole. He was getting _so fucking close._ Rick wrapped his arms tightly around Morty’s waist, pressing their bodies together and thrusting into him deeper, more forcefully, feeling Morty’s arms tighten around him, too.

“Oh, God. Ahhhh, Rick! I’m gonna cum!” Morty squealed, throwing his head back and yelling out as wave after wave of pleasure ran through his body and wave after wave of cum spurted out between their bellies. The feeling was incredible and sent Rick into an orgasm of his own, filling Morty’s little ass and kissing him hard on the mouth.

Panting and letting out a contented grunt, Rick slowly pulled his cock out of Morty’s hole, leaving him dripping. Keeping his tight grip on Morty, he lay down next to him, letting his grandson cuddle up and rest his head on Rick’s chest. As they lay together, each tried to catch their breath as best they could after the intensity of their session. Nuzzling his face down into Morty’s hair, Rick pressed a kiss onto the top of his head.

“Rick,” Morty’s voice was soft, sleepy. “I love you.”

“Yeah, Morty. I love you, too.”


End file.
